Listen, O Rāma, to the story as it unfolds in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Bālakāṇḍa. After Triśaṅku, king of the Ikṣvākus, had spoken words laden with anger, the hundred sons of the sage Vasiṣṭha addressed him sternly. "O wicked-minded one," they said, "you have been rejected by your truthful guru. How could you disregard his command and seek another branch for help? Among all the Ikṣvākus, the family priest is the highest path; the words of the truth-speaking sage must not be transgressed. The venerable Vasiṣṭha declared, 'It is impossible,' yet somehow you hope to assemble the sacrifice." They continued, "You are childish, O best of men; return to your city. The venerable one is capable of performing a sacrifice even for the three worlds, O king. How could we possibly insult him?" Their words were filled with anger. Triśaṅku replied, "I have been rejected by the venerable one, and likewise by the sons of my guru. I shall seek another path. Farewell to you, O ascetics." His words were dreadful in intent. The sons of Vasiṣṭha, enraged beyond measure, cursed him: "You shall become a Caṇḍāla!" Having spoken thus, those great souls returned to their hermitages. When night had passed, the curse took effect. Triśaṅku became a Caṇḍāla: his garments were dark, his skin dusky, his hair disheveled. He was adorned with garlands of rags, smeared with ashes, and wore iron ornaments. When his ministers saw him in this dreadful form, they fled in terror, as did the townspeople who once followed him. The king, descended from Kakutstha, went forth alone, his self-control supreme. Burning with anguish day and night, Triśaṅku approached Viśvāmitra, the great ascetic. Seeing the king rendered fruitless by the curse, Viśvāmitra was moved to compassion. Out of kindness, the supremely righteous sage spoke: "May it be well with you," he said to the king, whose appearance was dreadful. "For what purpose have you come, O mighty prince?" Triśaṅku replied, "O hero, lord of Ayodhya, by the curse I have become a Caṇḍāla. I have been rejected by my guru and likewise by his sons. Without attaining my desire, I have met with the opposite. May I ascend to heaven with my body, O gentle one. Though I have performed a hundred sacrifices, I do not obtain the fruit. I have never spoken falsehood, nor will I ever speak it. Even when afflicted, I have upheld the Kshatriya duty; with many kinds of sacrifices performed, I have protected the people by righteousness. The great-souled elders have been pleased by my conduct and character; striving in righteousness, I wish to perform sacrifice. Yet the elders, O best of sages, are not satisfied. I consider fate to be supreme, and human effort to be fruitless. Everything is overpowered by fate; fate is indeed the highest path. For me, greatly afflicted and seeking your favor, you ought to act, O blessed one, for one whose actions are obstructed by fate. I will not go to any other refuge, nor do I have any other shelter. You ought to turn aside fate by your own effort." Now, listen to the fifty-ninth sarga in the glorious Rāmāyaṇa. Viśvāmitra, moved by compassion, spoke sweet words to the king, who had truly become a Caṇḍāla. "O Ikṣvaku, welcome, my child; I know you are truly righteous. I will grant you refuge; do not fear, O foremost of kings. I will summon all the great sages of virtuous deeds, those who assist in sacrifices; then, O king, you shall perform the sacrifice with satisfaction. The form that has come upon you, caused by the guru's curse—with this very form, you shall ascend bodily. I consider heaven to be within your grasp, O king, since you have come to the son of Kausika, the giver of refuge, seeking shelter." Having spoken thus, the great and radiant sage instructed his supremely righteous sons, wise in all things, to prepare the sacrificial materials. He summoned all his disciples and said, "Bring here, by my command, all the sages along with Vasiṣṭha. Bring their disciples, friends, and the officiating priests, learned in the Vedas; and let anyone else come who, prompted by my words, wishes to speak. All that was fully declared by me, yet my words were disregarded." Hearing this command, the disciples departed in all directions. From all regions, Brahmanical sages gathered, and their disciples assembled, approaching the sage blazing with ascetic power. They spoke the words of all the Brahmanical sages, and hearing those words, all the twice-born began to arrive. From every land they came—except from Mahodaya. All the Vāsiṣṭhas, filled with wrath, uttered words harsh with anger. They said, "Hear now, O foremost of sages, exactly what we declare: How can a Kshatriya be the officiating priest for a Caṇḍāla, especially? How can the divine sages in the assembly partake of his oblation, or the great-souled Brahmins, after eating food from a Caṇḍāla?" Thus, the story of Triśaṅku, his curse, and his seeking refuge with Viśvāmitra, unfolds in the sacred Rāmāyaṇa.